


MIMESHOW

by arurun



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Demon Hunters, Demons, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Paranormal, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21981625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arurun/pseuds/arurun
Summary: Ten years ago, the demons took everything away from her. Her family, her beloved, everything that gave her meaning. Today, she enters Dodomeki Academy, working her way into the exclusive Demon Hunting Course-- and here, she knows, is her first step to revenge.
Comments: 1





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Thanks for picking up this book, though idk if it's allowed on AO3 (if it isn't someone pls tell me and I'll take it down!) but anyways, thanks for giving this book a chance, if you do. This is a story set in a world where Demons exist, but have infiltrated humankind much like ghouls from Tokyo Ghoul. The concept itself is rather inspired by Seraph of the End, but of course, diverges itself from that storyline soon enough. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy?

"Ever since their existence was discovered ten years ago, Demons have been a threat to mankind. Now answer me Arimura, why is that so?"

"Ah, yes, ma'am."

She rose from her seat, a finger reaching up to adjust her hearing aid as she looked down at her notes in the textbook.

"Demons see humans as a lower species, thus they are hostile to humans. They primarily consume human flesh, and are several times stronger than a human being."

"That is right, Arimura. Thank you for that."

After saying her part, the girl sat down.

"Since then, anti-Demon Organisations have been set up, the one we know most would most definitely be the Dodomeki Clan, who heads several governmental establishments, including this very school. Though not much is known about their organisation aside from their name and general aim..."

History Class continued like normal. Boring, uninteresting, and with little people actually paying attention.

Everyone knew about the Demons, after all. It's common sense of this era-- _don't go out at night, don't walk in isolated locations, because a Demon will attack you if you're careless_. Even children know that much.

"Psst, Arimura,"

There was a boy that usually sat beside her in class. She wasn't too sure of his name, it just never seemed all that important... she turned to him curiously, to find he had a folded note in his hand.

The note was tossed to her with a very sharp gesture that suggested the note's recipient was her.

She cast a glance at the teacher, who was facing the opposite direction. Guess the coast was clear then...

Rolling out the note, a few lines scribbled on with pencil.

**_C-3.4, M-03, "SWEETS"._ **

She didn't recognize the handwriting. The writer did not leave a name, but she could piece together enough to guess who wrote it.

Crumpling the piece in her hand, she kept it in her fist and tucked it under her desk.

-

In this world, Demons exist, and they are a threat. They do not typically show themselves to humans, but as their staple food is human flesh, they appear now and then in the streets.

This school, _Dodomeki Academy III_ , is one academy among a handful where students can enroll to become Demon Hunters.

"But it isn't that easy," someone gossiped to his friend, "you'll need to attain certain qualifications-- what qualifications, we don't know. But until you're up to their standards, you won't even know the Course is happening at all."

"Exactly," a girl cut into their conversation, "only the people taking the lessons know when, where and how the classes are held. Everyone else is completely unaware of it at all. We don't even know who attends the class and who doesn't."

"Awh man," his friend groaned, a palm on his face, "I thought I'd be able to even catch a glimpse of a demon hunter in this school... so even that is a no?"

"Of course not!" the first boy exclaimed, "demons can disguise themselves as humans, after all. They have to be very careful in who they accept into the course. What would we ever do if a Demon attends Demon Hunting classes?"

Walking past them, Arimura paid them no heed. Such gossip was common for freshmen, after all... but any freshman worth their salt would have gotten the invitation by now.

Everyone else were simply small fry.

She stepped toward the third years' building, and found herself in one of the more isolated parts. A shady alley facing the mountains. Perfect, wasn't it?

She walked in on a gang of bullies kicking around a boy half their size. Tucking her hands in her hips, she raised her voice with a loud, commanding bellow.

"Hey, you guys!!" and she sounded positively angered, "what do you think you're doing?!"

All activity ceases at the moment.

One senior had his grip on the victim's hair, tightly tugging back dark locks stained with damp red. They turned around to look at the interrupter-- and promptly snorted.

"What's a first-year doing in a place like this?" one of them mocked in a raised, pitched tone, "so brave, are you trying to be a hero?"

"Dude, she's cute for an absolute moron," the other laughed at her, approaching carelessly. Setting a hand under her chin, he lifted it so she would face him. "They say the prettiest faces are the dumbest, y'know?"

And she smiled.

"Huh?"

Latching a sudden death-grip on his wrist, he barely had a second to react before his vision overturned, and the world spun.

He landed on his back, facing the sky-- then with a crack, his arm flopped to the side-- and a roaring pain burned from the twisted flesh.

"Huh-- what's-- wait, it-- it hurts... ow! Fuck, that hurts! My arm!! Aaaah!!"

The girl turned back to the other two bullies, dusting her hands. "It's common sense that you shouldn't underestimate girls," she said, unaffected by the commotion behind her.

"Wha-!" the two bullies got up and stood defensively. They had a baseball bat, but it was only for intimidation. They were the kind that punched and kicked around, after all-- they've probably never used a bat on a person before. "You bitch! What did you do to him?!"

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed, raising a pair of middle fingers in their direction, "like, what era do you think we're in? Get with the times, you old-fashioned dickbags."

The next instant, they were all on the floor, nursing a broken bone of some degree. They groaned, unable to even move an inch from the pain that boiled under their skin. One even sobbed. _What men_.

"Punks like you won't stand a chance in the city," she scowled under her breath, spitting the words as if they were vile, "is this what modern-day delinquents are like? What utter pigs."

Her face scrunched up in disgust, she resisted the urge to puke on sight.

"I've heard of you... you're a first year, but people say you're the cutest girl in school right now."

She turned around, casually tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

The bully victim had already sat up, wiping the thread of blood from his lips, wincing at the new bruises.

"Yes," she responded, using polite language again. She stood straight before the boy, face stern and speaking calmly-- "my name is Arimura. It is an honour to meet you, senior Kikuchi."

The boy raised an eyebrow. He stood up, staggering slightly from his wounds. Stepping out of the darkened alley, the girl noticed that even in the light, his skin was a light brown, indicating a mix of heritage rather than a sporty tan.

"So you know my name," he mused, a grin tickling at the edge of his lips, "you're either some stalker, or I'm just really famous as a target for the bullies."

Arimura retrieved a piece of paper from her pocket.

"I'm afraid it's the former, senior," she teased, stepping closer to the boy but not being any taller than him despite her confidence, "looking closer, you're awfully cute for a total wimp. Mind taking me out on a date? There's an all-you-can-eat _sweets_ buffet in the shopping mall downtown... and it has private rooms."

"Well, aren't you a bright girl," Kikuchi reached out, taking the paper from her hands and crushing it in his pocket. "Unfortunately, I'm not a sociable guy. Ain't got any money on me, either. Nor am I interested in anyone of the opposite sex."

Arimura froze on the spot-- then, she flushed, rapidly registering, "wait, really?!"

Kikuchi grinned smugly.

"Congratulations, Arimura Arumu, you've passed the test-- you found me," he said, and from his pocket, he retrieved a silver card. His picture, his name-- it was an ID card, emblazoned with the emblem of the Dodomeki Clan.

Arimura took a closer look at it-- and saw, in clear print, were the words, **_Demon Hunter Rank: Silver 3rd._**

"Welcome to the Dodomeki Academy's Demon Hunter Course, I guess," he said.


	2. Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The route toward the rumoured Demon Hunting course is as underground as one would expect.
> 
> But this was only Phase One in her goal for the future.

“Every room in Dodomeki Academy III is made accessible by card. For students, they have Student IDs; For teachers, Staff IDs, you get the gist,” Kikuchi briefed her on the situation, leading her god-knows-where across to the other end of the school, where it was more isolated than ever before.

“So for Demon Hunters… Demon Hunter IDs?” Arimura asked back dumbly, because that was how the conversation was leading her.

“Yep,” Kikuchi said, vaguely. He walked-- so calmly, so easily, it was as if all the wounds on his body didn’t hurt at all. It was a strange sight.

They found themselves before a crumbling shed, near the stables and animal pens at the back of the school.

The roof was falling apart, and the door was remarkably, barely intact. Sure enough, there was a scanner at the side of the knob.

Kikuchi set his card on the surface-- a blue wave of light shot out, sliding vertically, then horizontally across their bodies. It was giving them a body scan? Woah, technology…

A chime later, the scanner blinked into green, providing access.

Kikuchi reached for the doorknob and crunched the door right open, revealing a set of stairs and nothing else, leading down into dark abyssal nothingness.

Even Arimura had to be creeped out by that.

“I remember this shed having horse feed, fertilizer, and shovels…” she muttered to herself, “and now they’re gone… what?”

“It’s some kind of magic or something, don’t think too much about it, ‘cause I don’t understand either.”

“...right.”

Arimura fiddled with her hearing aid, nervous.

She’d worked hard enough to get herself in, but her apparent senior seemed unreliable to a fault. Granted, he had a very high rank-- but he was being bullied just now, was he not? Were Demon Hunters weak enough to get pushed around by high school kids?

Arimura decided that he wasn’t worth it.

Surely, there would be someone else more reliable down there in the Course. Someone that exuded more of the dignity a saviour of the world should possess.

-

After nearly three minutes of simply wading through an impossible number of stairs, there was light at the end of the passage.

And the world opened, into an expanse further than the greatest of domes, lined with the most marvelous of obsidian, and painted with the skirts of every branding gemstone known to man. The walls lay high above their heads, and burned with the image of a mighty warrior descending from the heavens, to salvage a cruel and tainted world.

_What was it depicting_ , she wondered, but didn’t chase. It was beautiful, and that was most likely what she was supposed to see. A grandiose beauty that may not make sense, but illustrated the honour and luxury of the Demon Hunters.

Nobility.

She kept an eye on the hero of the artwork, riding the clouds with a golden sword in hand-- and her fist tightened against the fabric of her skirt, keeping her still.

“Registration is this way.”

Her attention was drawn back to senior Kikuchi, who led her into the first corridor on the left-- the one marked with a white gemstone at its entrance.

Right before it was a reception counter, and a lady stood behind it.

Her hair bound up in a bun, a pair of glasses on her face-- she was dressed like a businesswoman, though she couldn’t possibly be any older than they were.

When she spotted them, she brimmed into a friendly smile, raising her hand in a wave. Kikuchi returned the greeting as they approached.

“New recruit?” she asked, leaning over the counter excitedly to catch a better look at Arimura, “nice to meet you!”

Straight dark locks, bright red glasses-- something about her was so familiar, but Arimura couldn’t put a finger to it. She’d have surely remembered someone this chipper if she’d met them before…

“You’re _so_ cute! Oh, I’ve heard of you! You’re Arimura, the freshman, right? Your hair’s longer than mine! Love your lipstick, gorgeous-- oh, that’s the hair pin you can find at Li’l Mimicry downtown! I love that store too! And--”

Arimura was getting a little exhausted now. She’d barely gotten a greeting in and the older girl was just launching right off in her incredibly sociable glory. Maybe she should set her hearing aid to the lowest...

“Doremi, could you sign her up already?” Kikuchi growled out, a little annoyed by the endless chatter, “you’re gonna talk her ears off.”

Doremi? Who in their right mind would name their child, in this day and age, _Doremi_?

Doremi paused, then laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head in a bashfully flustered gesture, “sorry, my bad! But she really _is_ cute, don’t you agree, Kinorin? C’mon, she can rule the world with how cute she is!”

Kinorin? Okay, what the hell is a Kinorin? What on earth kind of name is _Kinorin_?

“Hurry the hell up or I’ll do it _myself_ ,” senior Kikuchi spat with the authority unbecoming of someone who was just shoved around by some piss-pants bullies.

(Hold on, is _he_ Mister “Kinorin”? How do you get _Kinorin_ from Kikuchi?)

“Woah, Kinorin’s gettin’ scary, eh?” she teased, pursing her lips in high amusement, “awh, are those _injuries_ , do your _boo-boos_ hurt? Is that why you’re so _grumpy_?”

The two seniors bickered to and fro, and the passers-by didn’t spare them a glance. Perhaps this was a normal occurrence… Arimura took this time to look around, this time not to the scenery, but to the people.

There were teachers he had seen on the surface-- the Physical Education teacher, carting around a bucket of who-knows-what. Then there was the lady from the convenience store, holding a stack of papers across to the other side of the hall. Someone hollered in all directions, and there were a few people looking as lost as she was-- they were newbies too, then.

She definitely was too focused on the walls, if she had missed this much.

The entire underground bustled with life, the cacophony of a chaotic party a shudder through her senses. Some people were dressed in the very-much famous Demon Hunter overcoats, the insignia of the Dodomeki large over their chests with pride.

Some held weapons larger than life, some led around a fresh face all over the area. The noise senior Kikuchi and senior Doremi made were less than noticeable among it all.

Combined with the bright lightning and the high ceilings-- it was as if she was in another world, surrounded by elements of a paranormal world.

(This was the Demon Hunting Course, she realized again.)

(She’s finally made it this far.)

“Alright, alright,” senior Doremi shrugged against the table, deciding to comply with the furious demand, “let’s get you registered, then. Give me your name and age.”

“Arimura Arumu,” she said, without hesitation, “sixteen years old.”

“Arimura Arumu, huh,” senior Doremi entered the information at a typing speed Arimura couldn’t really catch, “guess you’ll be Aru-aru? Or Rumu-rumu?”

She flustered, “Arimura’s fine!”

And Doremi laughed, good-naturedly. “It’s better to go with a codename down here, though! You’re not obliged to ever reveal your name down here aside from your identity card, but we do need something to address you with.”

 _Code names, huh_ … So this place wasn’t as school-like as he thought. Perhaps more like a training center for secret agents. This was getting kinda cool.

( _Now their names made sense_ , she secretly realized.)

“So, what’ll it be?” senior Doremi asked again, taking out a pure white card from under the desk and setting it in the chipping machine.

“Aru, then,” she said, “just Aru.”

“Very cute for a girl who raised two middle fingers and called a bunch of guys ‘absolute dickbags’ without hesitation,” Kikuchi said, a snide and unnecessary remark for the situation.

“What’s this? Is there a story? I wanna hear it!” Doremi brightened with interest. After a _ding_ , she lifted the cover of whatever that machine on the desk was, and retrieved a fully prepared card.

She ran it through the scanner on the desk, and it blinked from red to green, indicating a working card.

“Here you are, lil’Aru!”

Arimura took it with both hands, and marveled at the pure white shade. Her picture was there, the same one that was on her student ID as well. At the bottom, in plain black text-- **_Demon Hunter Rank: White 10_**.

(She’s really here.)

(She’s a Demon Hunter.)

“Not so fast, though!” Doremi stopped her internal celebration, “White Tenths are as good as probates. You have to prove yourself worthy of the next rank or you’ll drop off the list just as quickly as you joined.”

Of course, things weren’t going to be that easy. But that was within expectations.

“I’ll do my best!”


	3. Scars.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classes begin. Practicals run their course and it's rough training.
> 
> And in that reckless endeavour, Arimura gets spoken to about something important.

“I’m Kinorin,” senior Kikuchi introduced himself to the class, “my rank is Silver Third, and I will be in charge of your basic orientation henceforth. Be aware that truancy, misbehaviour, and tomfoolery is not tolerated in this classroom.”

“Yes... sir,” the class responds awkwardly.

The class was not an age matter-- based on the colour of their ties and bows, Arimura noted that there everyone in the classroom was either a second or third year in school. She was the only first year student here.

Senior _Kikuchi Norifusa_ , in short, _Kinorin_ , was a third year student. It was strange to refer to someone your age as a teacher, much less a superior of such high ranking.

Arimura passed the handouts around, taking one for herself.

“I’m sure none of you need another lecture on basic history, but I’ll go through it again just to be sure,” senior Kikuchi told them, “Demons all have unique abilities to go with immeasurable strength and super regeneration. Aside from those, they all have the ability to disguise themselves in the form of humans.”

It was all written quite clearly on the handout.

_A Demon’s strength can be gauged by the colour of their soul cores; the weakest ones are white, the strongest ones are silver or black._ Just like the Demon Hunters’ ranking system, there are ten levels in the hierarchy.

“Some demons can breathe fire; others can call upon rainstorms whenever they wish. I’ve seen Demons that can create barriers, but Black Second Hunters once had to deal with a Demon that could stop time. They vary,” senior Kikuchi’s explanation continued.

His tone was flat and stoic the entire time, which Arimura found highly amusing. He sounded like a typical, very boring History teacher. If the topic he spoke of wasn’t a life-or-death situation, there would probably be people sleeping on their desks.

Arimura remembered faintly, of one Demon she’d seen when she was younger. They had the ability to manipulate the laws of gravity, and there was a deep blue gem embedded in their palm.

(Though, that Demon had probably been hunted down after that. They often wandered around Arimura’s home, but she hadn’t seen them in years.)

She looked at the strength chart. Blue cores were amongst the bottom tier… sixth from the top, it seemed. So that Demon wasn’t all that strong after all?

“You go up a Hunter rank if you manage to defeat a Demon,” senior Kikuchi was still talking, it seemed, “you can’t usually fall ranks, but there are plenty of opportunities to jump ranks. I don’t recommend it, though.”

Everyone saw the large scar on the side of his arm, looking as if a monster had gouged it out once and barely failed, and promptly didn’t mention it again.

“Enough of this lecture. Time for the practical part of it.”

-

Practical lessons, for the first few weeks, involved strength and endurance training. It was like a military regime, tough and arduous and involving new scars and a few people throwing up every now and then.

Arimura sewed up a new tear in her skin, and wrapped it up with bandages before they could fester.

"Aru! I've told you time and again to let the nurses do their job!" Bursting into the room was senior Doremi, looking absolutely furious, "what are you, masochistic? Who stitches up their own wound without anesthetic!"

The nurse of the infirmary, a girl their age, looked near tears at the sight. Arimura had denied her treatment enough times to make her depressed.

“I’m uh,” Arimura said, stumbling at the sudden obsession with self-care, something she wasn’t too remotely interested in, “I’m used to it. It’s fine. It’s a waste of medicine anyways.”

“NO! It is _not_ fine,” senior Doremi snapped, her voice stern and holding something so furious inside her gaze-- why would a girl, a civilian girl like Arimura be _used to not having anesthetic and stitching up her own wounds?_ \-- senior Doremi was scared to imagine it. “It’s not a waste of money and will never be. Understand?”

Arimura took a second, before jutting out a customary, hesitant nod of understanding.

Senior Doremi held Arimura’s hand away from her-- and stared. She looked angry, and Arimura didn’t seem to understand just _why_. As if _Doremi_ was the one overreacting in this situation.

Doremi cast a glance at the nurse. The nurse looked back, almost sympathetically. The senior sighed heavily.

“You’re free for the rest of the day,” Doremi decided firmly.

“Actually, I still have a lesson with senior Ramune on…”

“No,” Doremi emphasises, looking the girl straight in the eye and keeping a vice grip on her hand-- “you are coming with me, and I’m taking you for a site inspection downstairs.”

That was not a suggestion, nor was it particularly asking for permission of any sort. It was just what was going to happen.

After a few vain attempts at pulling away, Arimura laughed a little. “Maybe I could go and inform senior Ramune that I will be missing his class?”

Doremi’s eyes squinted judgmentally. “I’m sure Ramune won’t mind. Even if he does, my authority is above his anyways,” she muttered, “you and I need to talk. Now, on a girl-to-girl basis. It’s important.”

-

Arimura, essentially kidnapped, took a lift down a few floors. They found themselves before a large training room-- and Senior Doremi scanned her Hunter ID on the panel to the left, which pardoned her entrance.

“This is the training room for Silvers and above. Everyone in here has been in the Hunting line of work for at least four years, except a few oddballs,” Doremi explained to the girl, bringing her up an escalator to a viewing gallery overlooking the hall.

For Silvers and above… so Senior Doremi was a Silver too?

“Senior Kinorin as well?” Arimura asked, and she took another moment before she asked, “there are ways to join the Demon Hunting Corps before this academy?”

At least four years… doesn’t that mean they’ve been hunting since junior high? Or earlier… Silver Third was a very high ranking, after all.

“Kinorin’s been in this trade for six years,” Doremi explained, “it’s not all that rare-- most of us joined after being orphaned by Demons. We get picked up by the Hunter Association. Anger is a great motivator, after all.”

There’s a stale pause as the information sunk in.

Down in the battle hall, an adult wielding a great broadsword yells out a fiery warcry, bringing his gleaming green blade down on his opponent-- said opponent’s arm gleamed purple, spreading out rapidly into a steel plate. The axe clashes against the shield, and sparks sprayed.

“Everyone of us has a story like that,” Doremi said, and as if unconsciously, she reached for the back of her neck, resting a hand on her nape. “A scar that we hide, that inevitably affects us and will affect us forever.”

Arimura set a hand at her own chest, a memory rising.

“I won’t ask you about yours,” Doremi told the girl, “but I want you to know that, now that you’re here, in here with us-- you’re no longer alone.”

( _“I’ll always be with you,”_ someone once told her. _“I’ll never leave you alone, ever again.”_ They had promised her.)

(That was only minutes before that demon came knocking at their door, separating them forever.)

“In the Demon Hunting Corps, teamwork is essential. We share everything from risks to credit to burdens. If you want to become a great hunter, you have to learn that above everything else,” Doremi pointed at a pair down below, working against a battle machine with one man charging forward and the other, with arrows, provided cover.

They were perfectly in synch. When they succeeded, they threw themselves at each other in a hug, high-fiving and cheering in joy.

“I’m not telling you that you have to trust anyone, or everyone-- but Aru, you have to find even just one person,” Doremi set a hand on Arimura’s shoulders, “someone you can trust with your life, your insecurities, and someone that will carry you through your past and your weaknesses. Someone who will join you to overcome everything. Together.”

Somehow, Arimura turned to the fresh bandages on her arms, to the stitches she had sewn onto herself-- to the wounds on her back, and the scar on her chest.

(Someone to share all this pain with?)

“Overcoming trauma is an essential step to growth, Aru,” Doremi told her, “we’re all human here-- we’re weak on our own. But with a team, we can get stronger, right?”

(Someone who will understand you, no matter what?)

Arimura nodded, and the senior laughed heartily, setting an arm on her shoulder in a show of relief.

Arimura was sure that Doremi only had good intentions on her. After all, she was a senior. A reckless, obviously scar-ridden junior like Arimura was worrying in every occasion. Perhaps Arimura wouldn’t be the first of this kind to show up in this Academy. Maybe there were people who were even more suicidal than this.

But someone that could understand her, someone to whom she could share all her pain with? If there could be someone like that, she would certainly want to meet them.

Maybe this was a little ironic.

After losing her beloved to the demons, she’s told that the only way to get stronger is to get another? What a joke.

(Human lives were so exceedingly fragile.)

(It hurt to love, so why did fate always turn in that direction?)


End file.
